


Some desires never die

by ASOUEfan



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: AU - Canon Divergence, Aged-Up Character(s), Begging, Dom!Esme sub!violet, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Gratuitous Smut, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Relationship(s), Revenge Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 09:45:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18496396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASOUEfan/pseuds/ASOUEfan
Summary: Having met a few months prior in the dim lighting of a fetish club, Esme and Violet enjoyed each others company a couple of times, safe in the knowledge everything that happened remained anonymous, their names and who they were left at the door.However being the City's 6th most important financial law advisor comes with contractual obligations to take interns, and no-one ever lasts working under Esmé Squalor. So when this batch of graduates comes in, she is shocked when Violet appears in her office doorway, orientation pack in hand, finally learning each others names.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElsaIsThereLifeOnMars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElsaIsThereLifeOnMars/gifts).



> AU - Post-Canon, Aged up Violet, she's been busy studying law, Esme is a financial law specialist because who knows what financial advisors ACTUALLY DO so I changed it. 
> 
> Its assumed they never met during The Unfortunate Events of before.

 

There was a rustle of movement as the two men finished talking to the new recruits, switching off the projector and bringing out a pile of plastic covered files each with the name of a particular executive level lawyer who would each be in charge of mentoring one of the new candidates. “Push the chairs under and collect your Orientation Packs on your way out,” Roger called to the room of anxious graduates, slapping his hand on the top of the pile. 

“And remember, you’re all damn lucky to be here,” Frank reiterated, making them look at one another with a huff. It was already becoming a repetitive theme. They _knew_ they were lucky to be there. You didn't get to do your internship at Ross & Weissman if you weren't already in the top 2% in the country. 

Violet joined the meandering queue with the other 5 recruits, waiting for her turn. “Work hard and you might get to stay.” Roger handed a pack out, then asked the boy in front of her, “Who are you working for? “

“Marcus Swetman,” He answered, glancing behind him at the rest of the queue with a self-impressed smirk. He was the typical Ivy-League well financed sort, wrapped up in his own arrogance, that Violet had always sought to avoid. He took the Orientation Pack and moved on out the door. 

Violet was about to step up when another boy from behind her pushed past to take his file, and then the next one tried the same again. Violet fixed her jaw, stepping aside for the rest of the men who clearly didn’t want to be courteous and wait. It was fairly obvious being the only woman in the graduate class was a difficult place to be. “Esme Squalor.” She said finally, now last, and the only person left in the room with the two seniors who had inducted them. 

“Ohh, good luck with that one,” Roger huffed, holding the last Orientation Pack from the table. He elbowed Frank, giving him a sideways glance. Violet held her hand out for it, but he tapped his fingers on it a while, and didn't hand it over. 

Violet eyed the file wantonly, then narrowed her eyes and looked back and for between them, catching their shared moment and wondering what it meant. “What do you mean?”

“No-one lasts a week working for Esme Squalor,” Frank told her, extolling her new bosses formidable reputation. Violet took it on the chin as this was the be expected, though she expected slightly exaggerated. She had applied directly to work under Ms Squalor for a reason; she wanted the best, even if it was going to be hard. No-one got to be the City’s 6th most important financial law specialist without being a little cut-throat, especially as a woman. 

“Perhaps this time will be different,” Violet suggested positively. She tucked her hair behind one ear. She was proud of her achievements, of her graduation results and getting into this programme. She wasn’t going to let these two with their weathered opinions put a damper on her excitement. 

Roger took half-a step back, making no move to hide the face he unashamedly grazed his eyes down Violets petite frame, sucking his lower lip in with a small appreciative sigh. “No offence sweetheart, but you look far too nice a girl to be working for a woman like Esme Squalor,” Roger smirked, seeing her as nothing but a pretty face. Violet tried not to react to the blatant sexism in the room and kept her features simple and polite, drawing her shoulders back a little standing taller, as Roger made his assessment. “She’ll crush you.” 

“I’ve got space on my service. I’d be happy to show you the ropes,” Frank offered, though his smile was just as fake and Violet took a deep breath, telling herself this is where she wanted to be. It would be fine once she had reached her destination and had Esme on her side; another undoubtedly strong, intelligent woman who would stand in front of her, take the heat from these chauvinistic lawyer types and bark back at them if they dared pass comment on her new intern. 

“Thanks but, I applied to work under Ms Squalor so, I’d like to see it through,” She repeated determinedly, putting her hand out again to prompt him to give her the file. 

“Shame. We could've had _so much_ fun,” Roger slapped the file into her hand with a small sigh, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers. 

“Which way is Ms Squalors office?” She clung her handbag over her shoulder, tossing her hair out of the way of the strap as she headed for the door, pausing momentarily for him to answer. 

“Fifth floor.”

“Thanks.” She smiled, and looked for a sign to the elevators.

 

————

 

Violet’s sense of excitement was building the closer she came to Esme’s office. A kind receptionist had told her which way to go, and was following her directions to the far wall of executive looking glass fronted offices, checking the numbers on the doors until she reached 667. 

She straightened up, smoothing her free hand down her black and navy tight fitting but professionally cut office dress, checking too on her dark tights and heels. It had taken her ages to decide on what to wear for her first day, buying the dress new. Just as she lifted her fist to knock on the glass, the woman’s face mostly obscured from view by the large silver Apple computer, a voice piped up behind her. 

“Do you have an appointment?” The young woman asked, through thick rimmed glasses. Violet turned and smiled politely, seeing where she had stood up from and the proximity to Esme’s office. She must be her assistant. 

“I’m Violet Baudelaire, Ms Squalors new intern,” Violet introduced herself, putting her hand out professionally. _Step one, get the assistant on side and your life would be easier,_ she heard her last professor saying. “But just call me Violet.” 

The girl retuned the gesture and shook her hand. “Sophia. Nice to have another woman around the place. There’s not many of us so, we tend to stick together.” 

“I noticed the firm was quite, testosterone heavy,” Violet chuckled, glancing the rows of cubicles. 

“Mhm. Ms Squalor is the only female senior executive. You’re lucky she accepted you. She doesn't usually like interns,” Sophia said glumly. “I’ll let her know you're here, and in the mean time get you set up on the computer system.” 

“Thanks.” Violet hung back as Sophia knocked on the woman’s door, waiting to be called in by only a beckoning hand. She heard her name being said, and her heart beat a little faster. This was it. Everything she had been working for, pushing her way up through the ranks, studying for her exams, submitting herself to the gruelling interview process to get onto this programme. But she’d done it, and now she was here, about to be introduced to her first and most important boss in her law career. 

Sophia re-emerged, with a grimace. “Good luck.” She touched Violets arm encouragingly and sat back at her desk. “Go.” 

Violet nodded, and walked through the doorway into Ms Squalors office. She strode confidently up to her desk, “Ms Squalor, its a pleasure to meet you; my names - “ Her words stumbled to a halt, as Esme stood from behind her desk and for the first time could see her face. 

The tall, formidable woman stared back at her, equally as shocked into silence. Violet couldn’t even appreciate the way the red and cream panelled dress hugged her hips, matching her bright red lipstick perfectly, or the neat waves the woman had pinned her platinum blonde hair into at the back of her head. 

“Its you,” Violet finished, her voice barely above a whisper. Her chest was so tight she could barely breathe, but found only by tearing her eyes away and dropping them to the floor could she find control enough to take a breath in and out. 

Esme couldn't believe her eyes. It was _her._ “Get out.” She tensely sat back down and pulled the wheeled chair under her desk, swallowing dryly, not looking back at her again. 

Violet was adrift. It had only been a few months ago they had met, and only 3 times. But she had had no idea who the woman was, that was the whole point of those sort of, _clubs_. You left your name, who you were, at the door. Inside you were free to explore and enjoy and release those deep, dark desires you couldn't ever utter to anyone. You were all in the safety of being in the same boat. “I didn't know…,” Violet said quietly, looking back up and approaching the desk slowly. “I swear.”

“I told you to get out!” Esme screamed, smacking her hands on the desk and glaring viciously at her. The confronting nature of having the girl here, _here,_ in her workplace, where people knew her and she had a professional reputation. She had broken her own rule seeing the girl three times, instead of the usual _once and never again_ decision to keep people at arms length, even of the anonymous submissive type. But Esme had so enjoyed flexing her dominating muscles, delighting in how willing and desperate the girl had been to play her part, to please and behave and _obey._ They had complimented each other in their intensities, and Esme had tried hard to drive down the twinge of disappointment when the girl hadn’t appeared in the club the Wednesday after. Or any Wednesday after that. 

Violet felt as if her legs were going to give way, losing her balance for a second and taking a quick step back. _No,_ no no no this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She wanted to start her career, excel and impress her new boss. She wanted to make a name for herself by beating all the other graduates at their own game and come out on top. Violet turned and fled the room barely breathing. 

Sophia stood from her desk trying to give the newly printed papers with her log-in codes but was ignored. “Violet - !” She called after her and came round her desk, her arms flapping at her sides. Sophia glanced into Ms Squalors office, wandering in tentatively. “Is Miss Baudelaire not staying?”

“I think my screaming was loud enough for you to hear, Sophia, so unless you’ve got something constructive to say I suggest you get out too,” Esme snapped, tossing back a mouthful of cold coffee and without notice, chucked the mug and the remaining contents across the room in an enraged outburst. “Fuck!” 

Sophia dodged the missile in a practiced fashion, wincing. “I don't wish to upset you further, Ms Squalor,” She began, knowing speaking up was a bad idea but it was also her job so, she had to. “ - but Mr Ross did say this time you really have to try and keep your intern. That the hiring and firing rate is abnormally and negatively skewed because there is a such a revolving door of interns through your office.” 

Half way down the corridor, next to a bewildered looking para-legal in an office cubicle, Violet had her hands on her hips and stared at the ceiling. She tried to get her rapid breathing under control. She had to go back. The thought made her dizzy. Could she do this? Go back in there and face her? Her career depended on this. There was no way she had studied so hard, forgoing nearly every social event to remain focused on her goal, only to be thrown from the Ms Squalors office before she’d even started. With her grades another firm would happily take her, Violet knew. But would she be content there? Would it be enough, having been offered a chance to be _here_? She couldn't let her career be taken from her. 

Violet turned with a determined gleam in her eyes. She strode back towards Esme’s office and went straight in without a moment to pause or re-think her plan. “No.” She barked firmly, crossing her arms to hold her resolve. 

Esme looked menacing, and Sophia needed no instruction to hurry swiftly from the room. She shut the door behind her to try and muffle the argument she expected was coming. 

“No?” Esme repeated incredulously. “Did I stutter?” She ran her tongue along the sharp edge of her teeth and pushed to her feet, walking around the desk in ridiculously tall heels to inch over to Violet and tower over her. “I don’t want you here.” 

Violet gazed up into her dark familiar eyes. “But I’m your intern. You hired me. You saw my resumé,” She protested. She felt a shiver up her back, unable to dispel the memories of gazing up into those same mysterious eyes, from her place on her knees. 

“Unfortunately with no picture attached. Otherwise it would’ve gone straight in the trash,” Esme snarled like a protective lioness, except the thing she was protecting was herself, .  If any of this got out, where she had been going or what _delicate_ things she enjoyed, the publicity could ruin her career. 

“I’m the best damn graduate on the internship programme and you know it, thats the only reason you agreed to take me on your service,” Violet fought, digging her heels in. She wasn’t going to let one part of her life devastate the other, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t as if she had been content doing those things with anyone else. She’d tried a few times, with different people but it wasn’t the same, so stopped bothering. It had taken months to stop thinking about Esme, though her name was unknown to her at the time, she was forced to admit that perhaps she would never get the chance to submit in the same way again.

Esme rolled her eyes and stretched her arms out wildly, jabbing Violet in the chest pushing her back with a single pointed finger. “Before I knew who you were! You _can’t be here_ , do you understand Darling? Or am I using words that are too big for you? I don't know how you tracked me down but I’m bloody well not going to be blackmailed into -“

“I’m not trying to blackmail you! I didn't know who you were!” Violet yelled emotionally.

“This conversation is going nowhere.” Esme pinched the bridge of her nose and held her hands up surrendering. “You need to leave before I have Sophia call security.” She retreated a step or two, shaking her head and returning to her leather chair falling into it. _What a colossal fuck up._ She rested one elbow up on the arm rest and rubbed her fingers along her forehead, worrying the stress was already leaving lines. 

Violet approached the desk, giving it one more try. “This is my career,” She implored her, placing the long forgotten file onto Esmes desk in front of her, her name written in bold print. Even this seemed too confronting, but she needed Esme to see it. “Please.” Violet couldn't hold back her desperation, and she begged. It was only a whimper, but it took root in Esme’s gut. Not only did she know that Violet was right, which in itself stung; but the fact she was well acquainted with that voice, that soft, breathy begging voice, told her the wretched girl was telling the truth. Esme pressed her eyes shut with a sigh. 

“One day.” She offered, as generously as she could muster. She sat back in her chair and wagged her finger firmly. “And if you haven't impressed me by the end of the day you leave and you don't come back.” 

Violet nodded quickly. “Fine.” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

The first few hours was spent in tense silence, both of their minds heavy and their mouths quiet. Esme had tasked Violet with researching a particular case, nothing a good para-legal couldn't do, but Violet didn't complain. She worked efficiently and tirelessly, barely stopping for a bathroom break despite Sophia’s occasional interruptions with coffee refills for the both of them. Esme remained at her desk, working on ignoring the girl that filled the front half of her office with papers, and boxes of papers, making little piles here and there, highlighting key portions of text in yellow marker. Much to Esme’s frustration the girl had ended up taking her heels off and kneeling down amongst her forest of paperwork, leaning on one hand to flutter a page into a particular pile, or stretch up to remove the lid from another box and thumb through the tabs thoughtfully. 

Esme tapped the end of her pen distractedly. She chewed the inside of her cheek having not managed to write a single line in the last 10 minutes, her focus preoccupied by the girl. _Violet Baudelaire_. She practised saying the name in her head. Now she knew her name, her whole person. She pulled open one of her desk drawers and found Violets resumé, knowing she had kept it somewhere. Esme scanned the front page, running her finger down the column of personal details. Age - 27, marital status - single, phone number - Esme scribbled it down on the corner of her phone pad flicking her eyes up to Violet to see if she had noticed. 

“I’m going to head to lunch before the canteen closes, if you don't need me for a bit?” Sophia’s voice pierced Esme’s contemplation, and she looked up. 

“Yes yes, _whatever,”_ She drawled, waving her away. 

Sophie looked pityingly at Violet. She hadn’t stopped all morning and was clearly feeling pressured into continuing to work. She understood, of course, but she still needed to eat. “Maybe I should, show Violet where it is,” Sophia suggested, in a poorly veiled attempt at getting her out of there. 

Violet turned to Esme, not answering, but patiently staying quiet. She was the intern after all, if she was told to keep working she would have to; besides which the whole, _asking permission_ thing was sort of automatic in her position, considering their past, entanglements. 

“You may have 15 minutes,” Esme conceded with a purse of her lips. She swung side to side in her chair, with her head tilted wondering how she could make this a challenge of loyalty. Sitting forward suddenly she laced her fingers together with an air of authority about her. “I’m setting at timer and if for whatever reason you break this rule - “

“Its not a rule. Its just a number you plucked out the sky. It changes every day.” Sophia boldly interrupted, muttering the last part to Violet. 

Esme's finger went up, her elbow banging on the table as she pointed at her in a fashionably unimpressed way. “Darling I say what is a rule and what not.” She mimed to Sophia to zip it, and instead turned her attention to Violet. “You want to go, then go, but even the tiniest rule break will be taken into account at the end of the day. I’m just saying.” She raised her eyebrows expectantly at her, willing her to defy her, if only to make the firing of the girl that much easier. Is that what she wanted? A doubt nagged in the back of Esme’s mind. 

“I’m fine, thank you for the offer Sophia. But I’m not all that hungry,” Violet lied, leaning and resting back on her feet for a moment, her hands lying on her thighs. She could do without lunch, but she couldn't do without Esme’s positive impression of her work ethic. Like it or not, Violet had only a few more hours till close of play in which to impress Esme enough to keep the job she had only just started.

“Sure.” Sophia huffed at her, unconvinced. She was only trying to be helpful and give her a lifeline to get out of the obviously awkward silence they were all engulfed in, so to have Violet rebuff her offer she felt almost insulted. 

“I think she’s pissed at you,” Esme snarked, after Sophia had walked away. Violet glanced to where the assistant had been, thinking the same. She tucked her hair behind her ears as she turned back to Esme.  

“I don't like to be rude, because, well she seems nice; But its not her I care about,” Violet said emphatically, making sure Esme knew that her focus, her efforts, were for her. That she would work her ass off and be the best damn intern she's ever had, foregoing any and all social engagements if Esme so wished, for the opportunity to keep working and keep learning from the best in the business. As well as, spend a bit of time with the woman that had so plagued her dreams. 

Esme hummed, pleased. “I’m glad you remember where your loyalties lie, pet,” She said, her voice dropping a little, huskier than before, as if her focus was sharpening as she said it. 

It made Violet quiver, trying to hold Esme’s deep and enigmatic eyes as long as she could, but found them too powerful. She dropped her gaze as she answered politely, “Of course.” 

 

———————

 

Jeremy Ross, CEO and fellow executive lawyer was normally one of the last to leave, so was curious to see that the light in Esme Squalors office was still on, when most of the floor had been engulfed in darkness, save for strip lights on the main thoroughfares. “Esme aren't you going to let your intern go home at some point?” He laughed lightly, pausing in the doorway to her office, putting his briefcase down momentarily to pull his arms into his overcoat. Violet looked up to him, standing quickly and straightening her dress to look professional, rather than the already casual-shoes off-sitting on the floor looking intern. 

Esme huffed, leaning back in her chair leisurely swinging slowly side to side. “I said she had the day to impress me, and so far she hasn’t done that. So until she does she’ll keep working.” She declared, playing a silvery fountain pen between her thumb and finger, barely glancing at Violet. 

“Has an intern ever impressed you enough?” Jeremy raised his eyebrows, winding a scarf round his neck and collecting his briefcase back in his hand. 

She smirked. “No.” She drew a deep breath in taking the lid off her pen and rolling the chair forwards again as if to get back to work. “But we’ll see.” 

Jeremy smiled pityingly at Violet. “Night both.” 

“Goodnight,” Violet replied, smiling back padding shoeless to the door and peering excitedly out. Her head spun back to Esme momentarily. “That was Jeremy Ross wasn’t it?” 

“Indeed,” came to curt reply. 

“He’s like, the CEO, and partner -“ 

“I know that,” Esme said, interrupting the starstruck intern. 

Violet stepped back and distractedly sat back down amongst her papers, tucking her feet round to the side, “I can’t believe he spoke to me.” She beamed quietly to herself. 

Esme rolled her eyes, capping her pen and putting it down again. She hadn’t really done much work the last hour or two, it was well past when she would usually vacate her office and go for casual drinks with colleagues, or to the gym, or the club. But she had wanted to keep Violet in her proximity as long as possible. She didn't want to agree to the internship placement simply because of their past, and the more Esme thought about it, _the future possibilities_ ; nor did she want to dismiss the girl from the programme thus ending her career before it even started, simply because she found herself hurt a few months ago. Yes, there was a danger in having her here, that something might get out. She worked extremely had to keep her work and her private life separate, and this didn't just contradict that but took a hammer to it and smashed the wall to pieces. 

Nevertheless, Violet _was_ here. She was a promising graduate with fantastic results and letters of commendation from every programme she had undertaken. She would be good for the company, and good for Esme personally, not only to have _for once_ a smart reliable intern she didn't have to spoon feed and then fire for their incompetence; but to prove to Jeremy and the Board that she could coach, and tutor the promising lawyers of tomorrow as her position and contract demanded. 

But first, there was something she had to do. 

Esme stood tall in her heels as she stepped carefully around the desk, cautious not to step on any of Violets peculiar piles of information and highlighted pages. She made it to the door, and checked up and down the row of offices, and the cubicles scattered in front. There was only one or two people still left. She pursed her lips and kicked out the doorstop, shutting the glass door with a click. Violet glanced up. Esme tapped the keypad on the glass wall, and in seconds it clouded over, no longer see through but only vaguely translucent. 

An excited tingle ran up Esmes spine and back down again, pooling between her legs. She stepped over to Violet, looking earnestly at the work she had been doing all day. “Show me what you have.” 

Violet took a deep breath, the anticipation freaking her out. It wasn’t as if her future at this firm rode on this one conversation, on proving how much work she had done and what useful information she had come up with. It was vital she showed Esme she was an asset, worth more than whatever embarrassment or risk she was taking in letting her stay. 

She launched into a detailed analysis of what she had found, citing this paper here and that quote there, building her argument eloquently. She was a diligent researcher and there was plenty that could be used in this case if the relative court filings were made. It was clear to Violet Esme needed an intern for this sort of leg work, she just had to show that. Esme hummed now and then, sounding vaguely positive, which encouraged Violet to make her point and finish her presentation of evidence. 

Esme’s hand twitched at her side as Violet spoke. She couldn't help it. Violet was on her knees, albeit surrounded by papers, talking and talking. She was a damn good intern, the depth of her argument made that obvious. “Good,” Esme muttered, pointing to a page and Violet nodding and continuing her statement. She almost didn't realise she was doing it, but her hand reached the few inches from her side, putting her hand softly on Violets head casually stroking her hair. 

“What are you doing?” Violets pulse spiked, and staring up at Esme with questioning eyes. 

“What?” She murmured, her fingers still combing through her locks, stroking her long dark hair with a familiar air. “What about the deposition from August 12th - the court ruled that evidence inadmissible - “

“Ms Squalor …,” Violet said firmly, pressing her hand to the floor tensing. She didn't want to jerk away, not at such a crucial time. If she dismissed the gesture or rejected it then Esme could kick her our right now. “I’m trying to save my place on this internship.” She was clearly a highly strung sort of woman who valued her success at work, as well as the loyalty of those on her team. But equally, she didn't want to earn her place by pleasing her in _other ways_. This was both of their careers. “Don’t, don't make it about that.” 

Esme drew her touch away, putting her hands on her hips. “I don’t make professional decisions based on who I fuck, Violet. You’re a good intern, any idiot can see that.” 

Was this it? Could she relax? “So, I’ve impressed you enough to come back tomorrow?” She need to hear it confirmed. 

“It pains me to say it but yes Darling, you’re one of the most promising interns I’ve had in a long time,” Esme decided, using the toe of her shoes to push some of the papers out of the way as she spoke, knowing what she was about to do. There was no more containing it, she needed this. Violet had stood her up, after 3 weeks of finding each other on a Wednesday night, Violet was no longer there. She had waited for weeks but the girl had never reappeared, until this morning. “But there’s something I need to do first.” 

“What do you mean?” Violet whispered, sensing the crackle of sexual tension in the air. Esme bent down and suddenly grabbed Violet by her hair, taking a fistful of it and looping her other arm under Violets, hauling her semi-upright and across the room in a swift and violent fashion. “What are you doing! Violet shrieked, stumbling and swiping for the hands that painfully held her, pulling her scalp as Esme manoeuvred her by her hair round the desk with little more than a grunt from the exertion. “Ow shit!” Violet yelped, scowling in utter confusion as she felt the edge of the desk against her hips. The sudden assault of hands was confusing and painful but unbelievably arousing. 

“Lie down.” Esme barked, nudging her palm against Violets chest, before grabbing her behind her knees and lifting her up onto the desk properly. Violet clung to the woman for balance and for some sort of grounding in what was suddenly happening, hastily looking behind her to see what was in the way, what she was about to crash over, but Esme grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look back at her. “You do remember how to obey me, don't you pet?” Esme growled huskily, bringing their lips together briefly, tasting the sweetness on Violets lips for the first time in months. 

Violet nodded immediately, _gladly_. She had not expected this was how her day would go, _at all_ , but had missed it so badly it ached; that decision had been taken from her when her lectures got moved to a Wednesday evening the term before her finals. There was no way she could skip it each week and expect to come out with 100% attendance. Despite the initial shock of seeing the woman somewhere other than the club, coming face to face with her like this, knowing her name, the company she worked for, it hadn’t diminished her desires one bit. “Yes Mistress,” She whimpered. 

A broad smirk grew on Esme’s features. “Good. Now lie down.” 

Violet obediently, carefully lay down on the desk until she was flat on her back, staring at the ceiling of Esme’s office with the shameful knowledge that the woman was about to see how aroused she already was. Esme stood over her, moving between her legs and feeling her hands up the girls thighs, pushing her dress up to her hips and finding the dark stockings were actually attached to garters, those little clips and ribbons tying to a garter belt over her panties. “Hmm, made more of an effort on your underwear,” Esme noted with great amusement, her hands meeting at the apex of Violets thighs, her fingers spread wide at her hips and bringing her thumbs together to brush over the material of Violets deep purple and navy lacy panties. “Seems I’m not the only one to have been thinking about this.” She cupped Violet firmly in one hand, causing shockwaves to ripple through Violets body making her gasp. 

_“Ohhh …_ ” She moaned, squeezing her eyes shut and digging her finger nails into the table. 

Esme laughed and dug the heel of her hand in against Violet’s clit, even through the material it gave a deep massaging friction to the quick firing bundle of nerves that made Violet clench and curl her shoulders off the desk. Esme could see her stomach muscles tensing through her dress, and she slapped the girl hard between the legs. “Don’t even think about coming.”

Violet groaned, this was utter perfection.

She tucked her fingers into the legs of Violets panties and tugged them down stepping back to slip them right off her feet and dropping them, forgotten to the floor. Sitting comfortably in her chair again, she lifted Violets feet to the arms of her leather executive style chair, and wheeled herself close to the desk. “My _my,”_ Esme assessed, encouraging Violet to shimmy to the edge of the table a little more, the girls legs either side of her allowing Esme to sit right up between her legs, comfortable and convenient. Violet whimpered already, she was so wet and the thought of it, the anticipation of Esme’s tongue on her, that there was no way to hide how turned on she was, only made her wetter. 

“Please,” the word tumbled from Violet’s lips on its own. Her chest tightened, if any of their old rules and preferences applied, she was already in trouble. She should be patient. 

Esme said nothing, bringing her hand in front of her and parted the girls folds with two fingers, finding her clit and pinching it, _hard._ “Please what?”

Intense white hot pain shot through her and she bucked, crying out. “Mistress! Please Mistress, fuck!” She practically screamed it, Esme’s nails digging in to her most sensitive place it was too much, too sudden, but pleased with the response, Esme slowly parted her finger and thumb letting the feeling and the blood rush back to the area. “Ahhhoooww…,” Violet groaned as each nerve fired when it got feeling back, making her twitch and tighten again. _Don't come, don’t, don't come._

“Better,” Esme murmured, curling her arms around Violet’s thighs and rolling her chair as close as she could, the perfect height and position to bring her mouth to Violet’s core. Her tongue was warm and wet on Violet’s clit as she lapped it slowly, dragging out the sensations as long as she could let it. She hadn’t planned this necessarily, certainly at the beginning of the day she had screamed and sent her packing. Being seen in her place of work by someone who knew her interests, who had joined her in enjoying such dark delights, she hadn’t dealt with it well. It was like the converging of two sides of her persona that were never meant to meet. 

But it had only taken Esme a few hours of watching Violet work to realise that she had to have her, one way or another. If she turned out to be a shit intern, they could still hook up at the club; luckily though, she didn't have to wait that long. She slid two fingers inside Violet’s warmth, growling hungrily into her folds as she sucked and licked at her clit, pumping her fingers in a steady unending rhythm. Violet gasped and immediately tightened on her fingers, it was all she needed to push her over. “Don’t!” Esme pulled her fingers straight out and sat back, removing all contact from all the sensitive places Violet craved her. 

“Fuck!” Violet yelped, her abdominals and her thighs tightening and releasing against her will, tightening and releasing, she tried to calm down and hold back, biting her lower lip as she exhaled again slowly, drifting slowly away from the edge. “I didn't … I didn’t, please,” Violet mewled, begging for the attention back, eager to prove to Esme not only could she follow orders, she _would do_ no matter how hard it was. 

“You were close,” Esme replied scathingly, stretching her arm out for a moment then curling back between her legs. 

Violet squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” 

“Concentrate, pet.” Esme murmured, slipping her fingers back inside her with ease, turning her hand this time and using her thumb to push up between her folds, nudging her clit with the top of her thumb on each thrust. 

“I’m trying, I swear!” She whined, scratching her fingernails on the desk to distract herself, her whole body shifting a little each time Esme thrust into her. Over and over she did it, adding a third finger so subtly Violet didn't notice the change over until they were back inside her and she felt that dull stretch, making her burn and bruise. 

Esme made sure she would feel this for the rest of tonight, and tomorrow, that it was going to imprint the girl back to her and her touch. Each time Violet clenched on her fingers Esme either stilled them or removed them totally, until tears rolled from her eyes down the sides of her face into her hair. “Wait until I say.” 

She couldn't bear it much longer, she couldn't hold on. She had already threatened to come a couple of times, feeling and hearing the tight sucking in of air but refusing to let herself let go, and groaned dizzily as the waves of orgasm slipped away again. Violet panted quickly, sniffing and breaking down a little. Experiencing something so profound in the safety of an environment that catered for it, finding that one person she connected with and understood her desire to beg, and kneel, and submit. To be slapped and held and controlled to the heady tune of someone else’s needs, fulfilling theirs equally by giving yourself over to them, was one of the most beautiful things she had ever felt. So to have it taken away because of something as benign as a rearranged lecture, never seeing the woman again and others falling painfully short of what _she_ had given her, Violet had simply stopped going. 

But by fate, or some of the cosmic coincidence she had walked right into her office, and here they were. Esme didn't want to hold back and neither did she; she was glad of it really - for the alternatives of being sent away, screamed at and escorted out the building by security like she had wanted; or worse - working under her and being unable to tell her how she felt? Unable to touch her or fuck her or any of those things, but having to work with her day in day out and deny anything had ever happened? 

Violet was grateful that Esme hadn’t controlled herself. 

“Now,” Esme murmured, driving her fingers high and hard into Violet once again, higher and harder than she had this whole time, taking Violets clit in her mouth and sucking. Violet cried out, her whole body shuddering as her hips ground down onto Esme’s fingers, coming hard and long and barely stopping for breath as she tightened and came again, Esme’s tongue still flicking over her clit in her mouth, causing wave after wave of orgasm to cascade through her. 

As the executive relaxed back in her chair, she slowly drew her fingers out of Violet, holding her hand out on the armrest of her chair at a poised sort of angle, not wanting to get any drips on her dress. She smiled to herself, leaning forward momentarily to kiss the inside of Violets thigh, then helping her move one leg around her so she could at least close her legs, as her body trembled through the aftershocks. “You alright up there?” 

Violets eyes drifted shut, swimming somewhere up high in a cloud of burning pleasure, hearing only the sound of her own breathing. “Mhm.” 

“Come to me, Darling.” Esme eased Violets legs to one side so she could step down onto the floor, Violet finding difficulty in co-ordinating herself as she sat up and touched her toes to the floor, shifting ungainly onto Esme’s lap. She sat herself sideways and leant again Esme’s chest, tucking her head into the crook of the woman’s neck, feeling her long arms holding her tightly. 

“Thank you,” Violet sniffed, wiping her cheeks dry on the shoulder of Esme’s dress as she curled into her comfortingly. “You don't know how much I’ve missed you…, this.” She admitted, quickly altering the ending so she wouldn't get spooked. Violet remembered the painful rebuff at the end of the night, when she had asked to meet up again only to have Esme knock her back. She didn't like attachments. Though as it had turned out, she _did_ like Violet, and broke her own rules by seeing her again. 

Esme stroked her hair softly, feeling a strange sort of contentment cradling the girl on her lap. “Then why did you stand me up?” She asked finally. 

“What do you mean?” Violet replied, her words muffled from being tucked into her neck. 

The woman huffed through her nose. “We fucked for 3 weeks straight, and the week after you were never to be seen,” She said, fiercely indignant. 

Violet sat up, she had to explain herself. “My lecture was moved. I couldn't make it. I didn't have your number or anything - I did ask them at the front desk and had to describe you ‘cos I didn't know your name but they wouldn't give it to me,” She clarified hurriedly, twisting a strand of Esme’s hair between her fingers, tucking it behind her ear in an affectionate, doting sort of fashion. 

“I was stood up for your law lectures? Psh.” Esme quirked an eyebrow, hardly impressed. Her arm rested loosely around Violets waist now she was sitting up, the other on her lap. She barely knew the girl except for what was on her CV, and which sort of handcuffs she preferred, but even so. There seemed to be a magnetic connection between them that Esme found herself forgiving the girl when usually she would never award such kindness. She had others she could call at short notice if she wanted, who would drop everything and come to her Penthouse and fuck her, or times she went to a regular bar and picked someone up, found a hotel and got her kicks that way. But none of them had gotten into her head the way Violet had, and would never go as far to say there was _feelings_ for her, but there was no denying she had been quietly hurt when Violet had failed to show up the next week. 

“It was just before my finals,” Violet whined, hoping this wouldn't be held against her. They had found each other now, apart from the fairly obvious mentor-pupil situation making it a bad idea, there was nothing stopping them picking up from where they left off. “I came a few other times, different days but you weren’t there, so I stopped going.” 

“You stopped going because you couldn't have, _me?”_   Esme flapped her hand theatrically to her chest. This was music to her ears. She might have lost out on Violet as a sub, but by the sounds of it Violet had lost out, _totally_. She had tried it out with a few other partners and then, stopped altogether. Violet only wanted _her_. 

Violet nodded, blushing. “No-one else got me like you did.” She stroked her fingers on Esme’s neck, tentative at first but then more purposeful as she wasn’t pushed away. Violet tucked her fingers round the nape of Esme’s neck and leant into her, kissing her and hoping everything she was trying to say, could be said like this. 

Esme moaned softly, cupping the girls cheek enjoying the tenderness she offered. It wasn’t usually her thing, but Violet was just, _adorable_. “Oh Darling, that’s because no-one is quite like me,” She breathed huskily, drying Violets lips with her thumb. “Maybe, if you make it to the end of the week without fucking up as my intern, I’ll take you back to the club. Go together, this time.” 

“Seriously?” Violet raised her eyebrows. Her breath hitched at the thought.

Esme smirked, and tucked her fingers under Violets dress, resting her fingers between her legs, wordlessly claiming her as her own. “Let that be an incentive for you, hmm?” 

 


End file.
